Pike Place, revisited

My first visit to the Pike Place Market came just a week after moving to Seattle, in 1965. In those days it was threatened with demolition (the grand plan was for ring roads all the way around downtown Seattle, with huge parking lots replacing the Market, Pioneer Square and other "eyesores.")

That was then. Now the Market is a beloved and famous treasure, and even in this time of economic jitters, we just passed a bond issue to fund needed repairs and upgrades.

Although I'd hesitate to visit the Market on a summer Saturday, it's a bit less crowded in December. Christmas is coming, so the craft booths offer every imaginable gift - hand-carved boxes, jewelry of all kinds, T-shirts, baby clothes, Peruvian sweaters, organic soaps and cosmetics.

And you can still buy vegetables, on the high stalls inside, and from the organic farmers outside. Guess which picture is which?

Back again.

This blog is a little like the sweater I started to knit years ago. After finishing more than half the garment, I put it away in the cedar chest, and didn't look at it again until last week. At that point, I spent an entire evening ripping it back, and rewinding. Result: five balls of somewhat crinkled yarn (and nine more skeins still untouched.)

Now I'm reknitting the yarn, in an entirely new pattern. Perhaps this time a finished garment will emerge.

At least I don't have to rip back this blog - all the posts I might have written have just come and gone in my head. Blogging during an organized tour is a nice idea, but difficult and expensive to put into action. (And you could die from secondhand smoke in most European internet cafes!)

It's still cold in Seattle, but the sun is out. I'm on my way out to the hardware store, to find a couple of toggle bolts to hold up the refurbished chickadee house. A gentleman friend built the birdhouse a few years ago, adding a custom touch - a bird-shaped perch under the opening. Sometimes the chickadees sit on it - at other times they fly straight through the hole, something which seems impossible no matter how many times you actually see it.

Pictures later. First I have to hang the house.